Bound in Scarlet
by Spinereader
Summary: Three bodyguards face the challenge of a lifetime. Finding the perfect gift for a picky future Mafia don.


**Title:** Bound in Scarlet  
**Disclaimer:** This lovely little bunch have another owner who probably wouldn't get them out of character, which I probably will. I'm just a humble writer.  
**Summary:** Because every section must have a (belated) holiday fic, this one is mine.  
**Author's Notes:** I assure you, the story isn't as dark as the title suggests. It ties into the plot in an odd way.

For those who care, I converted the money to the Japanese system, since the Judoh money system seems closest to that. For you American readers, this is what everything mentioned is closest to in American dollars, after rounding off.17,828 $150.00, 21,394 $180.00, 2,377 $20.00, 20,205 $170.00

* * *

As Mitchal shoved the sleeves of his sweatshirt up his arms, he wondered how it could possibly be the seventh day of Hanukkah and the Christmas shopping season. It just felt wrong without snow and mittens. Still here he was, a week and a half before Christmas, helping Ian shop for the person who had everything. Giovanni was out for the same reason, but bravely tackling the task solo.

His companion perused a display of picture frames, trying not to look like he didn't have a clue what to buy. There was a reason he'd hinted to Mitchal that he wanted him to assist. After all, Ian had only known Claire since spring and didn't want to risk getting the youth something terrible. It was bad enough he'd have to get something rather modest, due to all his student loan debts, but he certainly didn't want his gift to look cheap.

"I always thought these were the best invention," Mitchal said, holding up an electric whisk from the cooking accessories section of the gift shop. "Just my luck I forgot about this when Mom asked me want I wanted this year."

Ian nodded, smiling politely before picking up a silver frame with etchings.

"Wow, is this thing a letter opener or a dagger?" Ian joked as he studied the intricately carved opener.

Mitchal came over to join him, pleased to hear Ian finally speak up. It was practically the first time he had all morning. As he glanced at the letter opener, he cringed.

"I say dagger, it has to be," agreed Mitchal. "You give Claire that I have a bad feeling he'll find some twisted use for it."

Ian gave it a parting glance, shuddered, and moved to a different section. It turned out there was no point, given that neither found anything worth buying for Claire or anyone else. The pair squeezed through the crowd in the doorway and returned to the crowded sidewalks lining North Kabuki road.

"Mitchal, I didn't remember until I was in there, but I haven't bought Giovanni's gift yet. Sorry about that. But he's easy to shop for, so hopefully that won't take up too much of your time."

Mitchal stilled, staring at the young man in surprise. "Oh no, not at all. To be honest I forgot too until you mentioned it. I haven't done yours either, so if I ever shoo you away, that's why."

Under one of the awnings there was a shaved ice stand which caught Mitchal's attention.

"Hey, you want a shaved ice? My treat," Mitchal offered.

"That'd be nice," Ian replied with a nod. "I'll take a raspberry."

As Mitchal went to buy them, Ian plopped down at an adjacent table that was empty, pondering how incongruous shaved ice at Christmas was.

The two ate quickly and in comfortable silence before setting off again. They hit three more useless stores before finding an upscale clothing store. At this Mitchal managed to find two things that would work for Giovanni: a pair of black gloves and self warming socks. Granted Giovanni was the least cold natured person Mitchal had ever met, but they'd come in very handy if he ever decided to take a vacation in a meat locker. At the bemused look Ian gave him when he said this, Mitchal gave the real reason for his choice.

"Hey, it was about the only thing I could get anywhere besides an electronics store, which there are none of here, and somewhere filled with middle aged men in dark glasses who park in the back."

Ian stared at him with wide eyes before bursting out laughing.

"Mitchal, surely you're kidding."

The redhead opened the door to a bookstore before turning towards Ian. "You've obviously never seen some of the videos he has in his collection. They'd make Grandma faint and Daniel whoop with joy."

"Your brother?" asked Ian as they stopped at a display of newly released books. "But he's so young."

"Heh, there's no such thing as "only" when it comes to teen hormones."

Ian chose to push this unpleasant bit of information out of his brain.

"Hey, I'm going to see if I can find anything," Ian said. "If you finish before me please wait for me at the front."

With that, Ian ventured into the depths of the store to see if any book would suit either of the two co-workers he hadn't shopped for yet. He was out of luck with Claire, but found a true crime novel Giovanni would get a kick out of. It was about a mob security guard who moonlighted as a pimp and ended up being brutally murdered by the two of the women he pimped. Considering the man's third cousin was currently a bodyguard of Lorenzo's it seemed all the more entertaining.

By the time Ian checked out, Mitchal was already sitting on a bench outside of the store, a bag from the bookstore beside him.

"You must have done well," commented Ian as he took a seat beside him.

"Yeah, I got one thing for you. I didn't find anything for Claire though. " Mitchal held up the black plastic bag from the department store that was stuck in the larger one. "This is why it looks so fat."

"I couldn't find anything that suited him either," Ian quietly admitted. "The only thing I know he wants is a new car to replace the old one his father gave him, since it needs so many repairs. But obviously I can't do anything about that. At this rate I'll have to settle on buying him a coupon for a new piercing which would assure a quick demotion by Mr. Leonelli."

Mitchal said nothing by gave Ian's shoulder a squeeze. They sat for some time, watching shoppers passing by, before Mitchal pulled out his cellphone and dialed.

"So, Giovanni, what brilliant gift have you found for our favourite Leonelli?" he inquired.

From the other end of the line came a muffled groan before the familiar voice spoke. "I haven't, if you must know. What about you two?"

"Pending," Mitchal replied.

"You both still on North Kabuki road? We might as well go ahead and meet up since I'm striking out down here." The tone in Giovanni's voice made it obvious he'd put a great deal of effort into looking.

"Yes, still here, in front of Wilson's," explained Mitchal.

"Then I'll swing by in about ten minutes. See ya." With that, the man hung up.

In roughly that amount of time the pair spotted Giovanni strolling up the sidewalk towards them after parking the car on a side street. He'd apparently gotten hot, considering he'd shed the baggy burgundy sweater and now wore the mesh shirt no one but Giovanni himself and one of his exes really liked.

"All that time and all I found for Claire was one small box of chocolate truffles," groused Giovanni as the pair stood to greet him.

"Hey, you did better than us," Mitchal countered. "But things have to improve from here."

Things didn't improve, at least by much. The group went in ten more stores, all without luck. It wasn't until dark, when they ran across a basement store on a side street that their luck changed. It didn't seem worth bothering with, just a store that gothy earth mothers shopped in, to quote Giovanni, but Mitchal and Ian both wanted to try their luck.

The store, Relics of Atlantis, was like entering the bedroom of a fortune teller with an adoration of mythology and Poe. There was dangling, silver jewellery with gemstones and hand painted scarves practically everywhere the men looked. Paintings of black winged demons, all of which seemed to be artistically bloodied, chained up, crying, or all of the above, filled the walls. Though the teen would never in a million years admit it, they all knew Claire would secretly love one of the paintings. Of course his father would never consent to him having it, even in his room, so no one entertained the idea.

Behind the counter sat a teenaged boy of about eighteen who couldn't look less like a belonged there. He had messy brown hair, an open, friendly face, and wore a t-  
shirt with cartoon monkeys on it.

"Ha, you're perhaps the first people I've seen here who don't look like you came from a dungeon," he joked. Then he got a look at Giovanni's shirt. "Well, except for the daywalker over here. All that's missing are the shades."

Giovanni immediately turned away before the teen could notice the pair of shades hanging from the shirt collar.

"If you need anything, feel free to ask," the teen offered. A few seconds later he pulled out a book on tennis and proceeded to read.

As Giovanni and Mitchal respectively occupied themselves with a book of demonic possessions and a wallscroll illustrating scenes from The Iliad, Ian ventured over to a lighted display of hanging ornaments. They were all blown glass in a myriad of shapes, and each one had a wide, inch long oval in the middle. In the bottom of the oval was red liquid. There appeared to be something across the middle of the oval, perhaps to contain the liquid in the bottom half.

"Turn one of the ornaments over," the teen instructed Ian. He obliged and learned that the piece in the middle was apparently a sieve, as the red liquid immediately poured into the other half through tiny holes. It was rather remarkable to look at, especially since the mirrored and well-lit display made everything shine.

"Wow, that's beautiful," murmured Mitchal as he came to stand behind Ian's shoulder. "You could spend all day turning it over and never get bored. Giovanni, come see this."

Book still in hand, the man ventured over to the pair. Ian flipped over a new ornament this time, this one with two intricately carved wing shaped pieces coming out at the midpoint. Giovanni's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the ornament.

"Damn, that's nice! I think I like the Moravian star one best. The middle part is even diamond shaped so it looks more impressive when the liquid pours through."

"What is that liquid anyway?" Mitchal wondered. "Is it what's in thermometers?"

The clerk put down his book and joined the trio.

"It's human blood actually." Three shocked faces turned to stare at him. "I'm serious! It's chemically treated to keep its consistency and avoid clotting, but it's completely real.

"Believe it or not it's out best selling item. People like giving a part of themselves to their loved ones. Plus they're all completely unique and can be engraved, which tends to impress people."

"So…customers have their blood drawn and put into these?" Ian surmised. Behind him Mitchal grew pale.

"Not these on display, these just have animal blood. But yeah, that's right. Then the blood is treated and poured into a blown glass holder. Around that the ornament itself is formed and after it cools, our carver will etch a design if you get one of carved models. The whole process tends to take an hour."

"Who draws the blood?" Mitchal asked, still looking pale and drawn.

The kid shrugged. "My mom. She used to be a nurse, so she knows what she's doing. You can't even feel it."

Ian turned over an ornament for the millionth time as he mulled over the teen's words.

"Would it be a problem if more than one person's blood mixed? Would differing blood types matter?" Ian could feel Mitchal gaping at him.

"Oh no, not a bit," the kid assured him.

"An eternal bond…a blood bond," Ian mused. "How much would this cost?"

The kid perked, thrilled to realise a sale might be possible.

"A simple one will set you back 17,828 J dollars without custom engravings, and a carved one without engravings is 21,394. Engravings will cost you 2,377."

Ian exchanged looks with his co-workers, silently asking whether everyone agreed this was do-able.

"It's kinda pricey, but I'm in, preferably for this one," confirmed Giovanni. He was still staring at the star shape.

Though Mitchal didn't seem the least bit less shaky, he gave a firm nod.

"I'm in too, I know it would mean a lot to him. I'll even chip in for an engraving." To himself Mitchal mumbled, "But I hope to God I don't have to look at the needle."

"We'll take the Moravian star with the custom engraving," Ian said, turning to the clerk.

The boy beamed and yelled into the back room, "Hey Mom, could you come out here?"

A moment later a harried looking woman, whose attire matched the store, came out of the back room.

"Michael, there's no reason you couldn't have gone and fetched me rather than bursting the customer's eardrums!" As her attention fell on said customers, her tone changed. "I'm terribly sorry about that. I'm Marissa, the owner. What can I help you with?"

"We were interested in having one of these made," Mitchal told her, motioning towards the star shaped ornament but trying not to look at it.

"They're just beautiful aren't they? Will all three of you be contributing"  
"Yes," he said, trying to sound comfortable about the idea.

"Michael, could you take the stool out from behind the counter and get three syringes and alcohol wipes from the back room?"

He complied and his mother went behind the counter to ring up the order, with everyone playing a third of the 17,828 J dollars and Mitchal forking over the money for the engraving. Giovanni also bought the book on possession and hoped no one noticed. When Michael reappeared Marissa immediately got to work, taking one of the syringes out of the plastic. Giovanni got in the stool first while Mitchal became intently interested in a replica vampire repelling kit.

"Damn, you're good, I didn't even feel that," Giovanni exclaimed seconds later. Mitchal could tell it was for his benefit, but considering it was mostly the needle itself that scared him, it did little good.

Ian went next, and in seemingly no time Mitchal was up. He kept his focus on the stool as he approached Marissa, and after sitting down kept it on a comical painting of the seven deadly sins. When the plastic rattled he tried to pretend it was a candy wrapper.

"I met the woman who did that picture," Marissa said as she worked. "She only has one arm and three full fingers, due to being in a plant explosion, but she hasn't let it affect her work. All done!"

Mitchal thanked the woman and made sure to avoid seeing the blood filled syringes as he got off the stool.

"Now, there will be an hour wait until it's done," she told them, throwing away the swabs and covers and gathering the syringes. "You can either wait here or come back then, both are fine with me."

The three exchanged glances.

"If no one else minds I'd like to get out of here, go get something to eat," Mitchal announced. The others agreed.

"Then I'll see you soon," she said with a wave.

Soon after the three sat in a booth in a cozy sub shop, pondering what should be engraved on the ornament.

"It can't be in characters, they're too easy to botch up," Giovanni decided. "And it should probably be a Latin phrase to give it a touch of class."

Mitchal frowned. "I don't know any Latin phrases. I know a few Hebrew ones if that counts for anything."

"I know some Latin ones," Ian quietly interjected. "I can't remember any that would be appropriate off the top of my head, but I'll try to think of something."

Giovanni swallowed the bite he just took and heaved a sigh. "We might need to get a book of Latin phrases and expressions. Otherwise we'll be stuck putting something like Carpe Diem" on it."

"I hate that the only things that spring to mind are academia related," said Ian apologetically.

Throwing down his napkin in resignation, Giovanni got to his feet.

"There's a college bookstore not far from here, they gotta have something. I should be back soon."

The store ended up having quite a few books on Latin, and given the lack of crowds, Giovanni managed to get in and out of there rather quickly. By the time he reached the sub shop, both his companions had cleared the table and sat nursing their cups of soda.

Giovanni plopped down across from them and held up his new book.

"Mitchal, Ian, let's see if we can come up with something clever for the inscription"

* * *

For the millionth time Claire peeked out of his bedroom window. Much to his annoyance, the cars of Papa's guests still lined the driveway. It was nearly six PM, didn't these people ever go home?

Just like every single Christmas day he'd shared with his father, this one proved eternal and unpleasant. It had all started twelve hours ago when they went to the early Christmas Mass. After that was a trip to Mama's grave, opening presents (no new car, but he expected that), Christmas dinner out with an associate of Papa's (for which Claire was dragged along), and an afternoon at home with even more business associates dropping by for hors d'oeuvres and ass-kissing. Claire had been made to sit through most of it, at least until some Japanese guy (Rinseko?) brought over sushi and Papa made him eat it to be polite. The combination of sushi and the eight million sweets he had earlier wasn't the best and caused Claire to unofficially leave the party when his stomach violently informed him (twice!) that enough was enough. It really was the icing on the whole damned cake.

He took another sip of ginger ale as he read the new guide on stock trading Mauro gave him. It was amazing how dull and complicated they could make such a simple concept sound.

A car door slammed and Claire jumped up to look out the window. Sure enough one of the guests was leaving.

"One down, at least a dozen more to go."

It took another hour for the house to finally clear. The second the final door of the final car closed, Claire raced downstairs to the kitchen to fix himself a plate of whatever was left over from the refreshment platters. When the nausea left hunger took its place.

Apparently Claire wasn't the only one avoiding guests, considering several servants and the cook were all milling around the room and Giovanni and Mitchal were sitting at the table. He guessed Ian must still be visiting family since he wasn't with them.

Giovanni got up and pulled out a chair for him.

"You look like you're feeling better," the man noted as Claire plopped down.

"Yeah, especially since all the sycophants left. "

Mitchal, always feeling the need to say something even when there was nothing to say, spoke up. "You'll be happy to know that Vampire showed the sweater you got him to some of the guests after you left."

Claire felt a flutter of excitement over this before remembering earlier.

"Considering he didn't seem that pleased over it and got on me about the spelling of my name on the tag, I'm surprised. Like it's hurting him that I add an E on it like Mama would've put on my birth certificate had she lived long enough. Too feminine a spelling my ass!"

Mitchal seemed to wither at this and began worrying the cuticle on his thumbnail. Claire didn't feel guilt too often but when it came to Mitchal or Ian, who wilted almost to the point of shrivelling up, it was impossible not to experience a bit. After all, he was the one who fought this silly little battle every year, despite knowing he'd never win it. But hey, at least Papa had finally given up on demanding he take out the lip ring, since Claire always put it right back in shortly after removing it.

"Speaking of the prince of darkness," muttered Claire when the man waltzed into the room.

Without a word to Claire he nodded at Mitchal and Giovanni.

"Please go clear the dishes off the dining room table so Mabel can wash it off. Her back is upsetting her and she cannot do the walking herself."

"Yes, Vampire," the pair practically said in unison before leaving the room. Claire had to bite back the words "don't treat them like servants". After all, it was only about a half hour until Papa went back in the billiard room to play pool and darts with Mauro before retiring to bed. And at that point out came the alcohol as the exchanging of gifts with his bodyguards kicked off. It was honestly the only part of Christmas he looked forward to, given that it was the only part that was any fun.

Dion warmed up the dish water as Giovanni and Mitchal came to and from the sink, carrying dirty dishes. Beside Claire, Papa sat down with a sigh, looking as exhausted as Claire felt. The man suppressed a yawn as he surveyed the table.

"Once you're done eating, just have Dion put all this food away. I'd rather it not sit out all night."

"Yes sir," Claire replied, fighting a yawn of his own. Those really were contagious.

Father and son occupied themselves with eating for some time until one finally decided to speak.

"You did well with the sweater, son."

There came a loud clang as Claire gracelessly dropped his fork in shock.

"Oh, thank you! That…that means so much to me. I couldn't tell if you liked it." Why did he have to come off sounding like such a child in front of Papa? It seemed he always did and he hated it.

"You always were one for theatrics," the man said with a tired sigh. "But I do appreciate it and intend to wear it."

Claire picked his fork back up and returned to eating. The line about theatrics stung a bit but he forced himself to focus on the last thing Papa said.

"I'm glad. And the pants fit fine, right?"

The man swallowed his bite of potato salad and nodded. "They are a bit long, but that can rarely be helped. I'll have them hemmed shortly."

Claire didn't respond and continued eating ponderously. With Mara, the usual cook, he'd always made sure he finished his food a few minutes after the last dish was washed and the water was let out, just to see her amusing reaction. Mara caught on quickly to this, but Dion, the fill-in, didn't come often enough to be wise to this trick.

As his father finished up and took his dish to the sink, he gave Claire a stern look over his shoulder.

"You're going to bring that plate over before Dion has finished, understood?"

"Yes sir, understood," countered Claire. As soon as Papa's back was turned he made a face and stuck out his tongue, fast as lightening. By the time the man turned back, Claire expression was practically angelic.

After dumping the dish in the sink, Papa crossed the kitchen, giving Claire a light touch on the shoulder as he headed to the doorway. For Lorenzo Leonelli, this was equivalent to a hug.

"Good night son," he said, pausing in the doorway.

"Good night Papa, I love you."

As per usual, his father said nothing, leaving the room without looking at him. At one point the brush offs hurt Claire deeply, but by this point they mostly annoyed him. He was rather glad his bodyguards had returned to their quarters to change out of their suits as he hated people witnessing personal family scenes.

He finished up the last bit of potato salad as the front door opened. He could hear Lou, the front door security guard, making small talk with Ian. Getting out of his chair, Claire went towards the sink before stopping a few feet away and throwing the dishes into it. Dion gave him a weary look before sighing and returning to his task.

Claire waltzed out of the room, through the dining room and into the entry hall where Ian still stood talking with Lou, his arming brimming with food containers and a large bag full of recently opened gifts.

"You're lucky you only came away with three Tupperware containers and a bag of oranges," Lou was saying. "When I went to see my family last night, my mother practically foisted every piece of food she owned on me. I told her I was on a diet but that never matters to her."

Ian became aware Claire was standing feet away from him and nodded in his direction.

"Merry Christmas sir!" he greeted warmly. "Do you think anyone here would like all this food? Mom insisted I take it "to share with everyone". I hope you don't mind."

Claire shrugged and motioned to one of the two security guards standing in the den talking, since no servants were nearby.

"Detomo, take all that junk Ian's holding into the kitchen. Dion will find a place for it."

The man did as told, with Ian thanking him afterwards.

"So Ian, you get anything decent for Christmas?" asked Claire.

Ian glanced into the bag to jog his memory before answering.

"Let's see…a few small gifts, a set of washcloths, a new hard drive, and money for a keyless entry system for my door so I don't have to fumble for keys. They didn't know where to find it or what to buy, hence the money."

Lou shook his head and mouthed the word "Nerd" to Ian, who gave a small smile in response.

The three soon said their goodbyes as Claire and Ian returned to their rooms.

* * *

About forty-five minutes later Claire came back downstairs and into the now empty kitchen, no longer dressed in suit trousers and a wrinkled, untucked dress shirt. This time he wore maroon silk boxers and a matching robe, both gifts sent by his aunt who "figured he deserved something mature and dignified". There were even slippers that went with them but he didn't bother with them. Given that he would be taking full advantage of the, he doubted his feet would be cold.

Just like every year, the refrigerator was filled with wines and champagne bottles guests had given Papa as gifts and he'd forgotten to put in the locked cabinet (or perhaps decided not to bother). He grabbed a few bottles, along with a few cans of soda and two pitchers of juice, and put them on the dinner cart to wheel to the mini bar in the corner of the den. When Ian, now wearing childish red striped pyjamas, wandered into the den moments later, he found Claire contentedly mixing drinks at the bar as techno music played on the stereo. After an entire week of hearing practically nothing but Christmas music there wasn't a chance in Hell he would tolerate any more.

"Apparently I should make your drink a virgin," Claire quipped as Ian curled up on the edge of the couch.

"Yes I know," replied Ian, looking down at his attire. "But they're very comfortable."

Claire just shook his head as he tested the drink he was mixing to see if there was enough cranberry juice. There wasn't.

"Would you mind if I requested one of those?" asked the ever courteous Ian.

"Yes I would," Claire shot back with a smirk as he got out another glass.

Through the doorway wandered Giovanni and Mitchal, decked out in equally casual clothes. Giovanni wore faded out five year old pyjama pants and a baggy t-shirt and Mitchal wore orange cartoon print pyjama pants and a bathrobe. Ian seemed a bit shocked at this, most likely surprised that what was basically a company party was so casual. Considering the tradition had started between Claire and Giovanni when Claire was eight as a way for them to open gifts alone without Papa's commentary, it was inevitable it would remain low-key. Besides, it was the only time of the year the line between employee and employer disappeared and he wanted to keep it that way.

"It looks like you already have the party started," commented Mitchal as he sat beside Ian on the couch. Giovanni, who seemed allergic to sitting anywhere comfortable, took a seat on the hearth rug in front of the fire. Little did he know it was right where Claire planned to sit.

Claire set out Ian's drink on the counter and took a sip of his own before asking what anyone else wanted.

"Rum and coke, if ya don't mind," requested Giovanni. Mitchal echoed this.

As Claire worked (not that he thought of drink mixing as work at all), the others got into a discussion of holiday decorations. Inane as it was, Claire tuned it out. Finally, about twenty minutes later, the group approached tipsy and conversation turned to gossip about Vita employees. Claire remained at the bar, listening but having no interest in joining in.

"You know Davis, the blackjack dealer? Apparently Lydia found him in one of the basement supply rooms," Mitchal divulged. "Let's just say he apparently wasn't alone."

"Eh, it's not surprising he'd take Iruka back there eventually," said Giovanni, rolling his neck to get out the cricks. "They've been dating for years now."

Mitchal smirked devilishly as he leaned back on the couch, putting his arms behind his head.

"Giovanni, you think I'd bother telling this story if he was with Iruka? Oh no, it was someone rather unexpected."

Ian and Giovanni grew quiet as they tried to think up a likely candidate.

"Angie from the service desk," was Giovanni's guess.

"Nina from the bar," was Ian's guess.

"Nope, too curvy," replied Mitchal, who still had the disturbingly smug look on his face. "According to Linda it was Frankie, the bouncer."

Every face but Mitchal's scrunched up in disgust.

"That chick's gotta be lying," Giovanni insisted. "There's no way anyone of any gender would go for him. I mean how many people are gonna want some guy who never washes his hair, got his finger cut off in some stupid contest and never stops ranting about the government? Iruka's no looker but she's sure as hell better than him."

Claire snickered, pouring himself drink number four. Giovanni was always far more blunt when he had a few drinks in him and Claire always found it amusing. When he was sober he never said that much, and what he did say was often mumbled.

Newly poured drink in hand, Claire stepped out from behind the bar and made his way across the room. His balance wasn't as good as he'd prefer, but it was decent. He stopped in front of Giovanni, motioning the man to move over with a pointed flick of the neck. The man scooted over about a foot and Claire took his spot, laying out on the floor and facing the fire. He contentedly wiggled his toes, with electric blue toenails, as he tried to get comfortable.

"You don't all have to clam up because I came over," Claire told them as he propped his head up on one arm for a gulp of…whatever drink he'd made. There were so many ingredients that Claire doubted there even was such a drink. He actually hoped there wasn't considering how it tasted.

"Sorry," Mitchal said. "Anyway, that's why I didn't confront Davis about it. I'm not about to ask someone something so personal based on a rumour I heard Linda telling someone out in the hallway. She's generally honest, if a bit indiscreet, but still.

"Oh! And Roberto the electrician is mostly likely going to get a divorce from his wife. A few days ago when I walked by him talking to one of the security guards he was saying Bella warned him that she'd most likely move out after the holidays."

Ian, who stood at the bar refilling his latest drink, champagne, shook his head sadly.

"I'm afraid I've only met him twice but I still feel so bad for him," murmured Ian. "I know suicide rates are high around now. Apparently breakup rates are high as well."

This statement did a beautiful job of completely killing the mood. The suddenly maudlin mood irritated Claire to the point where he downed his mixed drink in three large gulps, each one making him shudder. When the glass was empty, he shoved it away, fell back onto the floor and pushed back the silk robe so it was completely off his shoulders and chest, leaving both bare. It was amazing how alcohol could warm you up.

"Maybe we should get out the gifts now before everyone gets completely depressed," suggested Mitchal. There certainly was no argument there.

Ian took on the role of Santa, delivering everyone's gifts. When he was done everyone but Mitchal had a pile in front of them, since Mitchal got his at the end of Hanukah. For a time the only sounds to be heard were Claire's music and the rattling of paper.

"Ah, a boxed set of that Evolution of the Human mind mini-series!" announced Ian. "And here I didn't think many people knew of my interest in psychology. Thank you Giovanni, I'm impressed."

Judging from the slightly guilty expression Mitchal wore, Claire guessed he wasn't one of those who knew. Of course as little as Ian liked to talk about himself it wasn't surprising.

"You do like it? I knew you got a masters in it and read psychology books now and then, so I just guessed," explained Giovanni as he finished opening his gift from Claire. As he took in what was inside, he stared for some time before pulling out the black trenchcoat to show everyone.

"Whoa, this is incredible! I don't think I've ever had a coat this nice."

"Yeah, well I just got sick of looking at that shabby one you've had since I hit puberty," Claire countered, even though he was secretly pleased. "Check the right pocket for the rest of the gift."

Giovanni dug out an expensive sterling silver cigarette case with a beautiful snake design on it.

"I know you don't smoke, but as much as you love snake designs I thought you'd enjoy it."

The man nodded, running a finger over the design. Claire couldn't help but feel a little smug, considering that he'd never once struck out on a present for Giovanni and apparently wouldn't break the record tonight.

"The box of chocolate truffles," said Claire once he opened one of his two gifts. "It wouldn't be Christmas if I didn't get this."

Smiling with contentment, Claire slid back onto the floor, laying the box on his chest and taking out one of the chocolates. He held it in his hand long enough for it to melt around his fingers, since eating chocolate before it got messy just took the fun out of it.

Ian took his turn next as he opened Mitchal's gift. "Ah, a new sound card for the computer!"

"I hope it's not too bad a gift," said Mitchal a bit nervously. "I remember you saying you wanted to replace the one in your computer at some point."

Hurriedly Ian shook his head. "No, no, I'm very grateful. If you hadn't given me this I would have had to make do with the old one. Thank you Mitchal."

This made Mitchal relax. He always got nervous when he gave gifts and Claire never had understood it.

There came a rattling as Giovanni pulled out Mitchal's gift of gloves and self warming socks. He snorted in amusement. "You must have known what Claire was giving me since you matched them up."

Mitchal held up his hands. "I had no idea, honestly! It certainly worked out well, though, didn't it?"

Giovanni slid on the gloves, flexing his fingers to test them out. "Thanks, they fit perfectly."

The three looked to Claire after a minute, since it was his turn, but he held up his hand, complete with chocolate covered fingers, to make it obvious this wouldn't be possible. Ian took the hint and picked up the red envelope from Claire. As he opened it and read what was on the letter inside, he sucked in a breath and stared at Claire with wide eyes.

"I can't believe it, you paid off nearly half of my student loans!"

Claire rolled over on his stomach to face Ian and took out another chocolate.

"It would have been a full half if Papa hadn't put me on a gift budget," he said before taking a bite of candy.

Ian's eyes were honestly glistening as he gazed gratefully at Claire. The expression would be sickening were it not on Ian, on whom it was completely genuine.

"You don't know how much this means," said Ian as he tried not to choke up. "I've been using nearly all of my monthly salary to pay these off and still haven't made much headway. You've helped me tremendously. Thank you so much."

How was someone supposed to respond to that?

"You're welcome, glad I could help," Claire said a bit awkwardly.

The sound of rattling paper started up again as Giovanni unwrapped Ian's present.

"Lust For Death: The true story of the Natalino Bianchi murder," Giovanni read off the cover. He turned it over to read the back as he chuckled.

"I heard about this guy. As I remember the girls got a slap on the wrist for offing him."

As he began looking through the book he stopped suddenly. "Why do some of these names sound familiar? This happened ages ago."

Ian, who'd pulled himself together, smiled. "That'd be because Rossetti is his distant cousin."

Giovanni checked the cover picture of Bianchi for a resemblance. "Errand boy Rossetti the Rose is related to him? Amazing someone so nice could be related to that guy."

"I know," Ian agreed.

Glancing around, Claire noticed that everyone apparently finished opening their gifts. He licked the chocolate off his fingers, sat up and finally unwrapped the gift beside him that, according to the tag, was from all of them. The box was rather small, but considering they all put their names on it, he assumed it was something very nice.

He finally got through the wrapping and tissue paper to find a clear string that seemed to be attached to an ornament. Pulling on the string, Claire discovered that his assumption was right. As he held it up to the firelight the beautiful glass piece glittered. He gently flicked one of the points to make it spin, noticing something red and shining in the middle. Immediately he stopped its movements to see what it was.

"Is that a vial?" he murmured to himself in wonderment.

"If you turn it over you can see what it does," Giovanni informed him.

Claire grabbed the matching string on the bottom of the star and turned the ornament. He sucked in a breath as the red liquid rained into the other side of the diamond shaped holder. The action was hypnotic, causing Claire to forget everything else as he turned the item upside down and right side up over and over again.

"Oh good, he seems to like it as much as I thought he would," he heard Ian telling Mitchal. Claire inferred he must be the one who picked it out.

"Would you like to know what the red liquid is?" Giovanni offered. The question struck Claire as completely rhetorical, since there'd be no reason he wouldn't. Knowing this wasn't the time to be snarky, he turned his attention to Giovanni, nodding wordlessly.

"Our blood," stated Giovanni. He sounded so serious that Claire found himself believing that, strange though the idea was.

He brought his attention back to the ornament and the liquid, shaking it to test the consistency. It seemed a bit thin for blood.

"They mixed a few chemicals in with it to thin it out and keep it from clotting," Ian interjected, seeming to read Claire's thoughts.

Still wary, Claire peered closely as the surrounding faces for confirmation. Everyone appeared to be serious.

"If this is your blood someone would have had to draw it," Claire mused. "Mitchal, I didn't know you had it in you. You always seemed terrified of needles."

Mitchal winced. "That hasn't changed. But I managed."

Claire held it up again, this time firmly convinced it held their blood.

"In case anything happens to any of us, this way you'll always have a part of us together," added Ian.

Until that moment this fact hadn't occurred to Claire. That was surprising, considering how often Papa talked about the importance of blood.

"A blood bond," he whispered to himself, transfixed by what lay within the vial. This was by far this most personal gift he had ever or would ever receive.

"I figured it was the strongest way we could show our devotion to you," Giovanni said. His tone remained as serious as before.

"Next to death of course," added Mitchal with a smile.

Claire never felt this moved before and didn't know how to handle it without losing dignity and looking like Ian. The idea that these people would devote themselves so deeply to him when he'd never even given them a reason almost brought him to tears. Why was he even worthy of this?

"Thank you," was all Claire could get out. It was far too simple a phrase but it would have to do. He doubted he could put into words how he felt.

As he studied the ornament again he noticed an inscription running down one of the star points. Apparently they did everything they could to make this as special as possible.

"_Quid opus est verbis_. What need is there for words?" He paused, wondering if he mentally translated correctly. He noticed the three men exchanged uneasy looks before Mitchal offered an explanation.

"The truth is, we ordered an engraving before it was made. We honestly planned to have something meaningful put on there and spent the hour while it was being made trying to come up with something. Obviously we came up short."

The irony finally got to Claire as he burst into loud, wild laughter.

"No it's perfect, absolutely perfect!" he said before laughter overtook him again.

This effectively lightened the mood as everyone relaxed.

**The End**

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Okay, this was only edited once and rushed out, so it probably as some problems and missing italics tags. I'll probably take it down, edit it and put it back up eventually, but for now, please tell me what liked about it and what problems you see.**  
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